


Day 654,432 in the Pandorica House

by Laurenjames



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-11
Updated: 2010-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:03:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21761461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laurenjames/pseuds/Laurenjames
Summary: Written in 2010 (age 17) for the prompt by Sarah B to 'write an entry from the POV of a DW character'. So here is an entry from Rory, with excess angst. Written in a not very long amount of time, but I'm doing lots of writing recently (like you haven't noticed) because I'm tentatively thinking about trying NaNo, all though I don't have a plot yet. But, you know....
Relationships: Amy Pond/Rory Williams





	Day 654,432 in the Pandorica House

Still here, still waiting, blah, blah, blah. I know to you I’ve only been here about 2 years, since livejournal started, but for me it’s been two thousand years. Yeah, you can’t even comprehend that, can you?

Yeah, ok, with a computer it goes about a million times quicker than when the most exciting thing to do was copy out the bible for cash-in-hand, but it’s still so dull. I mean, xkcd hasn’t even been invented yet, and when it is I’ll have read them all.

Sorry this entry says the same as every other one, moan about my dull, robotic life, long for home comforts (my lovely iphone!), miss Amy, rinse and repeat, but the only interesting thing to happen recently was when a little girl threw up over my uniform and I got the day off because they didn’t have any spares and I didn’t have a change of clothes.

I used to be a nurse, for Christ sake, and now I’m actually missing the stupid, arrogant doctors, because anything is better than sitting here, day after day, trying to stop myself going to visit Amy as a kid, hoping soon this whole gig is going to kick off again.

Yeah...it’s better than being in the Vatican. Kind of. Except, then, it was all so old, you know? Completely different from modern life, so you could kind of cope, thinking you were in a fairy tale. But now, everything is so Almost Right, it’s unbearable. Waiting these last few decades has been like torture, watching the last few jigsaw pieces click into place and itching under my skin until all I want to do is rip apart my stupid, plastic body because I can’t bear knowing it’s going to happen soon and Amy is so close to being free, and not being about to do anything.

Sorry. I know I’m mad, and all of you lovely people know that, but I just miss Amy so much. Her lovely red hair like metal and her tights and her bravery and openness and brightness, and it hurts so much that I’m starting to forget the exact shade of her eyes and having to focus every minute to keep my emotions alive, in my fake circuitry, in a dark room, keeping quiet in the corner so the guards don’t hear me.  
And it scares me, because if Amy is what is keeping me together, what makes me Me, then what if the image I have built myself around; the forgotten memories of a girl from 2000 years ago, are wrong. What does that make me? A false human with false memories guarding a box of false hope.

Fuck.


End file.
